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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23687125">eleven at night</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/situational_irony_13/pseuds/situational_irony_13'>situational_irony_13</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Haikyuu!!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Hurt/Comfort, I have no scale, Insomnia, It might not be light angst, Light Angst, Loneliness, M/M, Overworking yourself, Self-harm (but not really)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 17:00:16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,501</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23687125</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/situational_irony_13/pseuds/situational_irony_13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes it’s 11 PM and you know you won’t be able to sleep that night.</p><p> </p><p>Oikawa can't sleep.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>146</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>eleven at night</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Should I be working on my other fic? Yea.</p><p>This fic was written at 11pm and is maybe the saddest thing I've posted thus far. I do not advocate any of the things Oikawa did here, in fact they're super unhealthy. But I understand where something like this comes from. I hope anyone reading this knows that they're never really alone. And I know firsthand that it gets better.</p><p>Sending love to y'all.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Sometimes it’s 11 PM and you know you won’t be able to sleep that night.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>For some it comes from fear of the future, from a feeling of inadequacy. For some it comes from fear of the dark. For others, it’s fear of the demons hiding behind their own eyelids.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The clock struck 11, and Oikawa lay flat on his bed, his eyes wide open. One of his hands was clutching the bedsheet below him; the other clutched at his shirt, feeling his heart race.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He couldn’t help but feel like he was too old for this.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He wasn’t 8 anymore; he couldn’t wet the bed. He couldn’t be afraid of the dark.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He was too old to lie awake every night feeling himself get further on edge until he </span>
  <em>
    <span>snapped</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His parents weren’t home. His parents hadn’t been home for a while. They were either on vacation or at his sister’s house; for the moment, there wasn’t enough breath in him for his brain to work properly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He was alone. He was alone and afraid and it always ended up this way.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He was too old for this; he had to be better than this.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>So he left. He shrugged on a coat, not bothering to change out of sleep shorts and alien t-shirt, grabbed the keys to the volleyball gym and left. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was cold outside, and he was in shorts. But he’d take feeling cold over this overwhelming fear anyway, so he paid no mind. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The journey to school passed in a blur; he was either too cold or too anxious for his brain to catalogue anything he saw on the way there. It seemed the walk passed in an overwhelming register of </span>
  <em>
    <span>cold; </span>
  </em>
  <span>then, he was standing in the warmer gymnasium, lights on and setting up the net.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Setting up the net took forever; he was only one person and he was still shivering. But it was 11:30 and he wasn’t sleeping that night, so it felt like he had all the time in the world. Before he knew it, he was dragging over a cart of balls.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He knew what he’d come here to do; it was the same thing he did last night and the night before that. He stood at the service line, and tossed the ball in the air. He ran forward, and leaped into the air. His hand hit the ball with a satisfying </span>
  <em>
    <span>smack</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and the ball flew over the net, landing powerfully on the other side of the court.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Again.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He tossed another ball in the air, changing trajectories and adding power. Landing violently over and over again, as the dull twinge in his knee became a persistent burn.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Again.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His knee went from persistent burn to relentless pain. He continued his jump-serve until he couldn’t stand anymore, couldn’t put weight on his knee anymore. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Then came the tears. The ugly, violent sobs that forced their way out of him because </span>
  <em>
    <span>he just wanted to sleep, damnit. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He just wanted one night where he could sleep without the fear, without doing a hundred jump serves. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He cried until he felt dry and empty inside, like a mummy in a sarcophagus. Once he was numb enough to feel truly exhausted, he pushed his palms flat against the gym floor, and tried to stumble to his feet. This </span>
  <em>
    <span>was </span>
  </em>
  <span>routine, after all. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Only when he tried to place any pressure on his knee, it buckled and he ended up facedown on the gym floor, grimacing from the pain. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Shit. He had miscalculated his knee’s threshold. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p><span>Right then, the fear and loneliness fled back into his system, but for a separate reason entirely. </span><em><span>Who was he going to call?</span></em> <em><span>His parents weren’t at home. That left only…</span></em></p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Shit.” He said out loud, the first word he’d said all evening. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He dragged himself over to the bench where he’d left his wallet, keys, and cell phone. He barely had to do anything; after all, the person he was calling was #1 on his speed dial.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do you know what time it is, Shittykawa?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oikawa couldn’t help but want to burst into tears just at hearing his voice, but he schooled his expression and voice into one of utmost cheeriness.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hi, Iwa-chan. And yes, yes I do. It’s just, I need a teeny-tiny favor-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Something’s wrong.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oikawa knew that voice on Iwaizumi, knew what was coming. He felt panic rising within him even as he tried to double down on his cheery disposition.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No! No, nothing’s wrong!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Tooru.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oikawa felt himself go quiet automatically. Iwa never used his given name.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What’s wrong?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s just-” Oikawa squeezed his eyes shut, willing his voice not to tighten and the tears not to fall.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m at the gym. I-I need a ride. I hurt myself.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“On purpose?!” Oikawa could hear the panic in Iwa-chan’s voice.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, I mean kind of? Not really. Look, it’s my knee.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ll be right there.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oikawa hung up and looked up at the gym ceiling. He could have sworn barely any time passed before he heard Iwaizumi walk in, yelling for him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oikawa? There you are. I drove here, and I brought the old crutches you left at my house one time.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Iwaizumi, as reliable as ever, helped Oikawa hobble to the car, dismissing the idea that they should clean up since they “had morning practice at the asscrack of dawn tomorrow anyway”. Oikawa waited for the inevitable scolding, but it never came. Iwaizumi helped him into his house, got him situated on his bed, and brought him an ice pack to help the swelling in his knee go down. And then he sat on the desk chair opposite Oikawa’s bed and waited.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay, thanks so much for the help Iwa-chan! You can get going now.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why?” Iwaizumi asked, quietly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, why does anybody do anything? To win, of course.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Iwaizumi continued to stare at him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Look you know just as well as anyone that my serves are good like half the time, just wanted to get a little extra practice in.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Iwaizumi continued to look at him, skeptical.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And of course, at some point I’ll compete against Tobio-chan again and I will beat him!” Oikawa let an evil grin take over his face after that one, hoping that it would sway Iwaizumi. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It did not.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why, Tooru?” Iwaizumi asked loudly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ll tell you why! It’s because I can’t fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>sleep</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Hajime! I haven’t been able to sleep in weeks! It’s because whenever I end up in bed at night, my heart goes fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>beserk!</span>
  </em>
  <span> And if that wasn’t already a clusterfuck of a situation, I feel so fucking alone all the time that I want to sob. But I can’t cry unless I’m in pain which is why I said ‘kind of’ to your question before because I need to sleep and I need to cry and I need something that I don’t already have and sometimes in that split-second when I’m in the air and my hand makes contact with the ball I don’t feel so fucking alone and worthless!” Oikawa had started the tirade in a roar, but in the end his voice was small and world-weary.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Iwaizumi sat stunned for a couple moments. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“This is how you feel?” he began, his voice soft and uncertain.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oikawa nodded, suddenly more tired than he’d been in a long time.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“For weeks?” Iwaizumi continued.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oikawa nodded, tears beginning to well up in his eyes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why didn’t you come to me?” Iwaizumi asked, his voice holding a profound sadness Oikawa had never heard before.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You could have picked up the phone: ‘Hey, Hajime. I feel alone and scared and my parents aren’t in town. Come over.’ That’s all it would have taken and you </span>
  <em>
    <span>know </span>
  </em>
  <span>I would have been there.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oikawa was crying in earnest now, but silently. He continued to nod.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Come here, Shittykawa.” Oikawa leaned forward and collapsed into Hajime’s arms as he cried, letting out every pent up emotion in him. Iwaizumi held him, and when Oikawa showed no signs of stopping, he lifted Oikawa and situated them both in his bed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I know that these feelings don’t come from nowhere, and I know that it goes deeper than having a friend but </span>
  <em>
    <span>I am always there.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Iwaizumi whispered. Oikawa just cried harder.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Iwaizumi continued to stroke Oikawa’s hair and rub circles into his back until he fell into a deep sleep. The two slept that night curled around each other, the best sleep Oikawa had had in weeks.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The boys continued to sleep past when the sun’s rays came in through the window; it was a weekend and they could skip practice one day.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After all, Oikawa needed the sleep.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And Iwaizumi would make sure, in all the nights that followed, that Oikawa knew he wasn’t alone. There was always someone by his side to fight his fears with him. It wasn’t everything, but it was a start.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And in the end, it was all Oikawa really needed.</span>
</p>
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